


a brave new world

by mountainking



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, but not too much angst because this is a fix-it and i am a giant baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29885298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mountainking/pseuds/mountainking
Summary: Mahal, let me keep this, she pleaded within her mind as she listened to the conversation carry on without her.You already have my Vili, my One and my light, please let my sons and brothers stay here with me. I could not bear losing them. It would break me.“Mum?”Fili was calling her. His tone indicated he had been for some time. “Is everything alright?”Dis managed a smile for him and rose to join her family around the fire. Perhaps then she would lose the cold feeling that had been hanging over her like a cloud ever since they left Ered Luin behind. “I'm merely tired, little lion. Now let me have one of those potatoes.”---In which Dis joins Thorin and her sons on the quest to Erebor, Frerin is alive and well, and Thorin isn't quite as alone as he thinks he is.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Dís & Frerin & Thorin Oakenshield, Fíli/Ori (Tolkien), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so, um, this is my first ever fanfic. writing this has been something of a coping mechanism for me during lockdown. these characters have meant a lot to me since a very young age, have comforted me through many hardships, so i'm trying my best to do them justice in a way that still holds true to the story i've held in my heart for so many years. also, no beta because i'm terrified of my friends reading my work, lol. strangers on the internet seem less terrifying somehow. but yeah... any mistakes are wholly my own. :D
> 
> the hobbit and all the wonderful characters depicted here belong to mr tolkien. i'm just borrowing with them for my own amusement.

Dis surveyed the surrounding countryside from atop her pony. It was a pleasant and quiet land full of rolling hills, small bubbling streams and bountiful farmland, well protected from outside threats by the grace of the rangers. The sun shone merrily down over the landscape but Dis was in no mood to appreciate the picturesque scene.

Fili's suddenly spoke. “Mum, we really are sorry.”

“Really, truly sorry!” Kili piped up, following his brothers lead in his usual fashion.

Fili and Kili had been riding either side of her in near silence for the past six days. The only time they seemed to speak was to whisper furiously to each other after they made camp in the evenings, eyes whipping back and forth between her and Thorin. To be perfectly honest she was surprised they had held their silence this long. “The fault is not with you, my loves,” Dis told them truthfully, for it wasn't. They were young and eager to please – the precise reason they should not be coming along on such a harebrained journey. Instead she glared at the broad figure of her eldest brother riding in front of them. She knew he could hear their conversation but made no effort to keep her voice down. “The fault lays with your stubborn, stone-headed fool of an uncle.”

Thorin said nothing but urged his pony further down the road, towards Dwalin and away from her, his posture tense and unyielding. The guard said something she couldn't hear that had Thorin scowling thunderously. Dwalin boomed with laughter and reached across to clap him on the shoulder.

Dis sighed and returned her attention to her sons, still unusually quiet and docile beside her. “I'm not angry with either of you so you need not fear speaking to me.”

“But we defied you,” Kili said uncertainly, biting his lip. It was a nervous habit leftover from childhood. “You forbade us from going with Uncle Thorin and we ignored your wishes.”

“You did,” Dis agreed. She had all but begged them to stay behind in Ered Luin with Frerin but they would not hear of it and the argument that followed was not one she cared to repeat. It was done and all she could do now was protect them from whatever dangers they may come to face. “But I cannot fault you for wanting to stay by Thorin's side and protect him for that is what family does – after all, these are the values he, Frerin, and I have raised you with. Nor can I fault you for wanting to see the home you never had the chance to know. It is only... I am afraid. A company of fifteen – three of which are barely in their majority,” she continued, ignoring their immediate protests that they and Ori were not children. “Against a dragon, these are impossible odds – if we even manage to reach Erebor in the first place.”

“I know it will be a hard and dangerous journey but reclaiming the mountain is the right thing to do. Our people have been displaced for far too long.” Fili said determinedly, sounding so much like Thorin that despair filled her heart all over again. They were so alike. “And I know you want to go home as much as Uncle Thorin does.” He added quietly.

“Of course I do.” Dis said tightly. She did not allow herself to think about Erebor too often lest she spend her days miserable and grieving for what was long lost. But it was home, beautiful and resplendent, and always would be. She ached for it like a missing limb. “But not at the expense of your lives. No home is worth that price.”

Kili tried his best to reassure her. “Nobody has seen the dragon in over a century. It's likely long dead.” If Fili resembled Thorin, then Kili was all Frerin. They shared the same innate need to make others happy. She often wondered what traits of hers people saw in her sons, if any. “Nothing will happen to us.”

Dis wished she could believe him. “I hope you're right, love. I really do.”

Several hours later the sun began to dip below the horizon so they stopped to make camp for the night. They had chosen a small clearing on the outskirts of Michel Delving that looked as if it had housed travelers before. The surrounding thickets had been cut back and a small fire pit was already dug into the earth.

The mood of the party was significantly less tense than it had been before her conversation with Fili and Kili. 

Thorin, however, was another matter but despite their current disagreement, Dis loved him dearly. 

She had spent her whole life looking up to him. In some ways, despite Thorin only being fourteen years her senior, he had been more of a father figure to her growing up than Thrain had been, but as grown dwarrow they had very different opinions on many things and were not shy about letting each other know it. Without Frerin around to mediate their squabbles, Dis sincerely wondered if their relationship would survive the strain of such a long journey.

After considering this for a while, she sighed tiredly. If Fili and Kili were going to have any hope of safety on this quest she and Thorin would have to get along. For their sakes, they needed to work together to protect them and that meant this rift between them needed to be healed swiftly. Preferably before they reached Hobbiton tomorrow to meet up with the other company members and their unknown burglar.

With her mind made up, Dis walked over to where her brother was leaning against a felled log and sat down without ceremony beside him. “Brother,” Dis greeted.

Thorin looked across at her. To anyone other than family and close friends, he would seem the perfect picture of kingly poise and grace but Dis could read the weariness in his gaze. That look never really went away. Part of her felt wretched for adding to his burdens with her disapproval but she knew her concerns were well-founded and needed to be said. 

“Sister,” Thorin greeted in reply. “Have you come to shout at me again?”

“That remains to be seen. Are you still being difficult or can we talk like the grown dwarrow we are?”

“ _I'm_ difficult?” Thorin said incredulously. “You threw a pitcher at my head, Dis.”

It was true but that wasn't the point at the moment. “You are taking my sons into danger and possibly to their deaths,” she said without preamble. “Tell me – how else should I behave?”

There was a pause. “I... yes, I am not under any delusions about the dangers we will face on this quest.” Thorin allowed, mouth twisting into a frown. “Mahal take me, I know I am failing as their uncle by leading them into such peril. But Dis... how else do you expect me to behave? Everything I do, everything I have been forced to do, I do for them and for our people. This has been my lot since the mountain was taken. I am the king and those boys, as dear to me as if they were my own, are my very own heirs. I need them with me.”

“But Thorin, that is exactly what I cannot understand!” Dis exclaimed. She would be far less angry if he ever took the time to explain himself to her. “If you are aware of the dangers, why risk them? Both of them against a dragon?”

“I must have them here,” Thorin said urgently. A manic sort of desperation leaked into his tone. “Dis, if I... if I slip into the same madness that took father and grandfather, they will be the only ones who can bring me out of it. And if not...” He trailed off. His hands were clenched into fists in his lap, so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Dis realised with a sinking feeling what he was trying to tell her. “Then you will need Fili there to take your place as king,” she finished for him, nauseated. “And Kili to help him bear it.”

Thorin looked tired beyond his years. “My selfishness shames me. You do not need to tell me so because I already know it and carry that weight with me every day. I simply do not know what else to do or what other precautions I can possibly take.”

Truthfully she had no answer for him and the fight she had approached him with had long since left her. Night had fallen during their discussion and the campfire had since been lit. Fili and Kili were attempting to roast sausages over it with mixed success while Dwalin watched over them amusedly. Thorin and Dis both stared into the flames, lost in their own thoughts.

“I hadn't realised you were so afraid of the sickness,” Dis said quietly after a long silence. He had never mentioned it to her before. To imagine him corrupted in such a way – her proud, noble, kind brother – frightened her beyond words and she wondered with dismay what other dark thoughts he kept locked away and festering inside, unvoiced to her and Frerin. “I'm sorry, brother, for not considering it before. I have been thoughtless.”

“It is not your fault,” Thorin replied gently. “ Your reaction was understandable. You are concerned for your children.”

“I am. But I realise now I should be concerned for you too. Will you tell me, if you feel yourself slipping?”

“You will be the first to know,” Thorin confirmed. He seemed to relax slightly at the idea of someone watching out for him. Dis wondered just how badly she had been failing him if this small thing was enough to comfort him. “You must do whatever you can to keep the boys safe should the worst befall me.”

“I will. And I am sorry for calling you a fool earlier,” she told him honestly. Then winced remembering their original fight where he had announced his intention to bring Fili and Kili with him to face the dragon over dinner one night. “And for throwing the pitcher at your head. I should not have done that however justified I believed myself to be at the time.”

“It's the famous Durin temper,” Thorin joked quietly.

Dis laughed. “It must be. Much like your stone head. But still, I am sorry.”

“It is no matter. As you said, I am stoned-headed. You could not have hurt me.” Thorin smiled at her then. It was tiny but genuine and tinged with amusement. “Look at us having a conversation without it devolving into a screaming match. If Frerin were here he would be beside himself with joy.”

Dis smiled too at the thought of their happy-go-lucky brother and the warmth of his personality. He did not enjoy conflict. That in itself was why he had renounced all claim to the throne, passing it along to Fili shortly after his birth. There was a time where Dis had resented him for placing such a heavy burden upon her child but she knew that to be Thorin's heir would've eventually broken Frerin's gentle spirit. He was a quiet soul and wasn't made for politics. And Fili was, as much as it pained her to admit it. He was young yet but her golden son was quick and clever and spotted things even she and Thorin missed, and seemed to thrive on the daily comings and goings of the court. It delighted Balin to no end. 

“Will Frerin truly be alright, ruling the colony alone?” Dis asked. “You know he detests it.”

“That is certainly an understatement,” Thorin said fondly. Frerin hated leadership the way Thorin hated liars, disloyalty and elves. “But he is capable and knows it will not be forever. No more than a year, Mahal willing. Once we reclaim Erebor he can begin leading our people home and we will all be together once again.”

“It all sounds so simple when put like that.”

“It is what I must believe to continue putting one foot in front of the other,” Thorin said. Then he looked startled, as though he had not meant to say that aloud.

Dis was stricken. “Thorin...”

He smiled at her again but the earlier amusement was gone. “I am well, Dis. Do not fret so.”

The conversation was clearly over because with that he patted her gently on the shoulder and walked over to where Fili and Kili were cooking. They looked up at him in unison. “Uncle!” Kili exclaimed in delight. “Look, we have made dinner.”

The metal platter beside them contained a tower of sausages, some in far better condition than others. Dis could tell which of her sons had cooked which sausage. Kili meant well but he was no chef, she thought fondly.

“So I see, my merry lad,” Thorin said. He picked the worst of the burnt sausages from the pile and bit into it without hesitation. He chewed for a long time before swallowing. “Thank you.”

Kili beamed. “You're welcome!”

He turned back to the fire and begun to work on what she assumed was to be baked potatoes. Dis wondered if she ought to step in. The way he was trying to skewer the unsuspecting potato looked more than a little dangerous.

Fili caught her concerned gaze and his lips twitched. “Here, Kee, let me do it.”

“Oh... alright.”

The boys began to bicker over the best way to bake a potato and she zoned out to the sound of their voices. Thorin and Dwalin were chuckling at their antics.

 _Mahal, let me keep this_ , she pleaded within her mind as she listened to the conversation carry on without her. _You already have my Vili, my One and my light, please let my sons and brothers stay here with me. I could not bear losing them. It would break me._

“Mum?” 

Fili was calling her. His tone indicated he had been for some time. “Is everything alright?”

Dis managed a smile for him and rose to join her family around the fire. Perhaps then she would lose the cold feeling that had been hanging over her like a cloud ever since they left Ered Luin behind. “I'm merely tired, little lion. Now let me have one of those potatoes.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I suppose you must be King Thorin,” Bilbo said. His eyes were very wide as he approached Thorin and, impossibly, his cheeks seemed to turn an even darker shade of red. “I... I am sorry you had to see that, Your Majesty.”
> 
> “Just Thorin is fine,” Thorin assured him, coming back to himself. “If you truly had no knowledge of our arrival then it is I who should be apologising to you.”
> 
> Then he bowed low.
> 
> Dis marveled at Thorin's sudden show of good manners. If bringing him to the Shire was all it took to instill some diplomacy into him Balin would've surely done so years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who has commented so far :) i appreciate it.
> 
> i thought long and hard about how to characterise thorin and decided that in my universe - where he has the solid support of *both* his siblings - he might be a little more open and a little less jaded, and therefore less hostile towards bilbo at the start. that doesn't mean things will be easy, however. this is bilbo and thorin we're talking about, lol. despite their feelings, they still have quite the journey ahead of them. let me know your thoughts? also dori, nori and ori are female in this story!
> 
> i hope you'll like this chapter too.

Dis observed the hobbit who was to be their burglar as he fussed over taking their cloaks and the proper place to put ones shoes. In all honesty, he looked about the same as any other she had come across during the journey through Hobbiton. His hair was curly and golden, a slightly darker shade than her Fili's and her own. His eyes were a bright green and he sported a round belly that spoke of a well-to-do life and little hardship. But there was something clever in his eyes that stopped her from dismissing him outright.

He didn't watch them with fear or distaste, as his kinsman had upon seeing their small party traveling through the village. If anything, he looked curious.

Mahal only knew what Thorin would say about their host – he was already in two minds about bringing an outsider along with them, let alone one with no obvious fighting experience – but Dis was willing to give him a chance. After all, she knew how it was to be dismissed for one's race and appearance. She ought to be better than that.

“Master Baggins, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Dis said, bowing low. Whether or not it was truly a pleasure for either of them remained to be seen, she thought, but it never hurt to be polite. “Dis, daughter of Thrain, at your service. My thanks for allowing myself and my companions into your home.”

Master Baggins looked momentarily startled at the obvious show of respect but recovered quicker than she had expected. He bobbed his head in greeting. “Well met, Mistress Dis. Be welcome here.”

“That will be Lady Dis to you, lad,” Balin piped up from behind her. He was a stickler for propriety. “I am not sure why Her Highness is choosing to omit her titles.”

Dis glared at him. She had been trying not to overwhelm their host, who at that moment was trying to manoeuvrer Fili and Kili away from the beautifully carved wooden chest sitting just inside the front door. They were attempting to use it as a seat, and Master Baggins was beginning to look irritated.

“Lady?” Master Baggins asked, head snapping up to look at her. His plight against the mischievous princes was forgotten in his shock. “You are nobility?”

“Mother is a princess!” Kili supplied helpfully. He was now sitting atop the chest and Fili was sprawled on the floor, rubbing his arm and scowling. “Although we have no true kingdom at the moment. Fili and I are princes, and Uncle Thorin is king. He will be here as soon, you can meet him then.”

Her kingly brother was currently seeing to the ponies, something he had always enjoyed. He denied having a soft spot for them no matter how much she teased but Dis saw him true. That Thorin was deeply fond of animals and children was well known so she did not understand why he insisted on hiding such things. Most likely it was some misguided notion that the king couldn't be seen having emotions. But that was Thorin for you. Pricklier than a warg in armour on the outside but squidgy on the inside, Frerin often said, much to their brothers disgust.

“Oh...” Master Baggins said faintly. The sudden shakiness in his voice drew her back into the conversation. His earlier confidence in the face of strangers seemed to have deserted him. “I... I see.”

Dis decided to take mercy on him and offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I am not here to lord over you and your neighbours, Master Baggins. Dis will do just fine.” 

Balin looked as though he had something to say about that but she ignored him. They would get nowhere with intimidation. Master Baggins was not a dwarf and therefore was not required to show deference to her. She also knew the Shire had no kings or nobility so their presence was likely outside his realm of experience.

She continued, turning to address her troublesome sons. “Kili, stop abusing Master Baggins' belongings. Fili, stop making faces at your brother. Both of you stand up and introduce yourselves properly.”

They sprung up in unison.

“Fili...”

“And Kili...”

“At your service!” They finished at the same time with a bow so low and theatrical – the cheeky brats – that the beads in Fili's hair clicked against the wooden floor.

“Bilbo Baggins, at yours.” He stared at them for a while before visibly shaking himself. Dis was beginning to admire his resilience. “Would you care for some dinner? I wasn't expecting company but I have enough for a good meal if you're hungry – ”

“You were not expecting us?” Dis interrupted.

How could that be?

“I – well, no, I wasn't. Your friend there -” he gestured at Dwalin, “took me quite by surprise. But it's no matter, honestly! You're here now and my mother would return from the grave just to box my ears if I was rude enough to turn away guests, especially ones who believed themselves invited. Please, come through to the dining room and I will fix you all a meal!” He was beginning to babble but Dis hardly heard him. 

Master Baggins had not been expecting them – had there been some kind of mistake? Had they come to the wrong house? She was positive they hadn't. Tharkun had said their burglar was to be a Master Baggins of Bag End and this hobbit was certainly him.

What was going on here?

“But Tharkun gave us your name and told us where to find you. He said you had agreed to become a member of our company. Was he mistaken, then?”

“Tharkun?” Master Baggins asked, brows furrowed. “I don't know anybody by that name.”

“Tharkun – the grey wizard,” she clarified. A look of horrified realisation begun to creep over his face much to her confusion. “In the common tongue he goes by the name of Gandalf.”

For a moment, all was silent. Then Master Baggins exploded into another torrent of chatter and for the first time since their unexpected arrival, he sounded truly annoyed.

“Oh that – that wretched, bothersome – oh, of all the rude, irritating, meddlesome people! I should've known he was involved in this. No adventures, I told him. No thank you and goodbye, I said!” Master Baggins ranted. His cheeks were becoming quite red, so incensed was he. He paced up and down the hallway shaking his fist at nobody in particular. “What a fool I was to believe he would listen to me. He had better hope I don't see him again or I'll – I'll – give him a piece of my mind, mark my words, and he will not like what I have to say!”

Of course, that was the precise moment Thorin chose to enter.

“Master Baggins?” Thorin asked slowly, staring in alarm at the fuming little hobbit. He turned to look at Dis. “What have you done to him?”

“Me?” Dis said, affronted. “It is the wizard who has incurred his wrath, not I.”

“Tharkun?”

“Yes. It seems we have all been spun quite the tale, brother,” Dis informed him with a detached sort of amusement. “Master Baggins had no foreknowledge of our coming. To him, we are just a hoard of unknown dwarrow who have invaded his home without invitation.”

Thorin said nothing and after a moment closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, held it for several seconds and then exhaled.

She knew it to be a tactic to control his temper, taught to him by Frerin after he had left the court in a rage one too many times, slamming doors and furniture alike in his wake. 

Dis was pregnant with Fili at the time and Frerin had asked if this was really the sort of Uncle he intended to be when the baby arrived.

Of course, it had been decades since then and Thorin's temper had improved considerably in the meantime but she imagined this new knowledge of the wizards scheming was testing him sorely.

“I suppose you must be King Thorin,” Bilbo said. His eyes were very wide as he approached Thorin and, impossibly, his cheeks seemed to turn an even darker shade of red. “I... I am sorry you had to see that, Your Majesty.”

“Just Thorin is fine,” Thorin assured him, coming back to himself. “If you truly had no knowledge of our arrival then it is I who should be apologising to you.”

Then he bowed low.

Dis marveled at Thorin's sudden show of good manners. If bringing him to the Shire was all it took to instill some diplomacy into him Balin would've surely done so years ago.

“Thorin...” Master Baggins said wonderingly as if testing the name to see how it would sound coming from his mouth. He nodded decisively. “Then... you must call me Bilbo! Master Baggins was my father. And I will accept no apologies from you – it seems we have both been led astray.”

To her continued astonishment, Thorin actually smiled. And it was his real smile too – not the false, strained one he used upon the more curmudgeonly nobles back in Ered Luin. 

“Bilbo... I believe you may be correct,” Thorin agreed.

Balin had begun to mutter about wilful royals throwing propriety down the mineshaft. Dwalin was munching on a bread roll and not paying any of them a speck of attention, and Fili and Kili watched the proceedings with large grins, no doubt finding the detour into what they had previous dubbed a “boring little land full of boring little people” more exciting than expected. 

Thorin and Master Baggins continued to openly stare at each other. The hobbit moved restlessly from foot to foot and wrung his little hands together in front of him. Thorin seemed as still as the stone from whence they came as he watched the hobbit with dark, hooded eyes.

Dis narrowed her eyes at them.

Surely not.

Her brother and – a hobbit?

“Thorin?” 

Whatever he heard in her tone must have be-laid her shock because he turned away from Master Baggins to look at her – though not without a great deal of effort. Dis flicked her gaze to Master Baggins and then back to her brother in askance. Thorin's jaw tightened defiantly and he shifted closer to the hobbit. 

_Oh, Mahal._

Well. That was that, then. 

To think she had worried for his reaction to the hobbit!

“Won't you come in, your – I mean, Thorin?” Master Baggins asked politely. “Let me take your cloak and then we can all see about dinner.” 

“I wonder what has become of the others,” Dis said.

“Wait – others?” Master Baggins said, wrenching his gaze from where he was studying the partially visible tattoo's on Thorin's neck as he removed his cloak. “There are more of you?”

Dis nodded. “Nine more, including the wizard.”

“Gandalf!” He exclaimed in disgust. 

Dis had heard dwarrow say “orc” with more fondness. 

It was clear there was bad blood between their host and the wizard but as to whether the conflict was the result of their presence in his home or something older she did not know. 

She wondered if they were in for another of his verbal lashings and sure enough, he did not disappoint. 

“Well,” Master Baggins said irritably. “Well, I like that! Inviting himself into my home without so much as a by your leave after all the trouble he has caused! He must think me a doormat. Well, I shan't be serving his favourite wine or the lemon pudding if that is what he's hoping for. And if he expects any conversation out of me, I will once again tell him _thank you very much_ but I'm not interested! Let him put that in his pipe and smoke it.”

Thorin laughed at that – a short, joyful sound of delight – and then look startled at himself for doing so.

Truly, the day was getting stranger by the minute.

A changeable creature, this Master Baggins, she thought as she watched him sputter and fume. Polite and obliging one moment, furious and spitting worse than a wet cat the next. Dis allowed herself to consider the idea that he could be well suited to Thorin – her brother was also the mercurial type. Perhaps their similar natures would be complementary, regardless of the obvious cultural differences.

But putting aside Thorin's obvious liking for their host, their party was technically trespassing, regardless of how well Master Baggins seemed to be taking the whole scenario in stride.

“Master Baggins, would you prefer for us to leave?” She asked him when it was becoming clear that Thorin would not. They could not linger in the doorway forever and a decision needed to be made. “We would not impose upon your hospitality if we are not welcome here.” 

“Nonsense. You are quite welcome, all of you.”

“Are you certain? We are a large party and you would be well within your rights to send us on our way.”

 _Many have done so before_ , she did not add.

Master Baggins glanced at Thorin, and then over at Fili and Kili, visibly softening. “I am certain. Hobbits have large parties frequently. I have cooked for more and worse company, I assure you. And please,” he addressed her directly. “Call me Bilbo.”

Dis inclined her head in recognition of the request.

Bilbo continued. “If only that dratted wizard had deigned to give me proper notice of your arrival. I could've gone to the market this morning. Well, I suppose what little there is in the first pantry will do nicely enough.” 

“First pantry?” Kili exclaimed.

“Oh yes,” Bilbo replied distractedly. He gestured for Kili to follow him to one of the many rooms that lined either side of the main hallway. He pointed inside. “Do you suppose this will do? The second pantry, well, I don't keep much in there as it's just me here in my smial, you see. That would be rather more food than necessary and I'm not a wasteful hobbit! So we will have to make do with this one.”

Dis followed after them and then stared. She rather thought this was more food than necessary. Just how much did hobbits eat?

Kili had clearly thought the same thing and had no qualms about asking outright. 

It turned out hobbits ate seven meals a day. Seven!

Thorin was beginning to look very sour indeed as Bilbo plucked various items off the shelves and shoved them into Fili and Kili's arms, all the while quizzing them on what specifically dwarrow enjoyed eating for dinner.

“Come now,” Dis whispered teasingly. “You were smitten with him only moments ago. Now you are put off by his wealth and good fortune? Surely it is a good thing he has not suffered as we have.”

“It is not that. It is only... we might not have struggled so in Ered Luin if Father had given serious thought to trade with the Shire rather than outright dismissing the idea. Look at how Bilbo lives. I knew hobbits were apt farmers but this...” he gestured to the well-stocked pantry. “This is beyond what I had expected. Food is clearly not an issue here.”

Dis distantly remembered something of that, back when they had first settled in Ered Luin and supplies were running particularly short one winter. Father had been determined they would be self-sufficient and soldier on alone as true dwarrow had always done.

It had proven a costly decision.

The older she grew, the more she wondered what true dwarrow were supposed to look like. 

She considered the avaricious nobles they had left behind with Frerin who were quick to cast judgment and blame upon Thorin for his decisions but never seemed to offer any alternate ideas.

She thought of the isolated rule of her father and grandfather before him, constantly at odds with other races and if that weren't bad enough, the incessant infighting within their own kingdom and ever-present greed for more had crippled them on several occasions. The carnage at Azanulbizar had been proof enough of that.

No, nothing of what she had seen thus far in her life had been very mighty or deserving of praise.

 _Except for your family_ , the little voice in her head that sounded a lot like Vili reminded her, as it always did when she became too bitter. Those remaining who are good at heart.

Except for her beautiful, precious sons who grew smarter – and more mischievous – by the day, and gentle Frerin who tried his best to keep the lot of them from splintering apart. 

Thorin, as steady and ever-present as the mountain he so wished to reclaim, who had always carefully picked up the shattered pieces of their lives and what little remained of their culture, thoughtlessly left behind by those who had come before.

“Well, we are here now,” Dis said eventually. “Perhaps when we reclaim the mountain Bilbo can show you something of farming.”

“I don't think Bilbo is a farmer, Dis.”

“He is right, I'm not!” Bilbo replied cheerfully as he left the pantry at last, Fili and Kili following behind with their arms full of ingredients. “But I do know a thing or two about growing things. Why, my tomatoes have been the envy of the Shire for three years now!”

“I don't know what that means,” Thorin told him very honestly. And then suddenly, despite being a worse chef than Kili: “would you like any assistance cooking dinner?”

Bilbo peeked up at him from beneath his lashes. “If you like,” he said demurely.

Oh, brother, Dis thought somewhat hysterically as she watched them smile hesitantly at each other. He has you wrapped around his little finger already. 

As Thorin dutifully followed Bilbo and the boys down the hallway into what she assumed was the kitchen, Dis shook her head and finally took a moment to survey her surroundings.

Bilbo's home was unlike any she had entered before. Different to the angular architecture dwarrow preferred yet nothing like the two-story mud and brick houses Men tended to favour. No, instead almost everything appeared to be made of wood. The furniture was sturdy and she thought even the most traditional of dwarrow would be unlikely to find fault with it. The floor was polished to gleaming perfection, and the support beams which held up the unusually rounded cream walls held no dust or cobweb.

Wherever she looked there were paintings artfully displayed, books and knick-knacks littering surface tops, and colourful throws and cushions were strewn around the numerous seating areas. 

It was not what she was used to but Dis could tell this was a home well-loved and could appreciate the unassuming beauty of it.

Some time went by like that, with Dis exploring the home of their host – his smial, Bilbo had called it earlier. She was careful not to enter any room where the door was clearly shut. After all, she was merely curious, not a snoop. 

As she wandered she came across what was clearly the study. Multiple bookshelves stood tall along the edges of the room. The shelves were straining under the weight piled upon them, the wood slightly bowed, and books also spilled over onto the floor.

Underneath the window was a desk with papers scattered across the surface. She didn't look too closely at those. What caught her eye was a map laying on top of it all.

Impressively, it seemed to depict most of known Arda. It appeared to be drawn by hand rather than reproduced by printing press in the style of Men, and the calligraphy was looped and elegant.

Her eyes lingered on Erebor, far away to the east, heart aching. 

Would they truly make it back home? 

It was easy to be hopeful here in this gentle land untouched by war but she wondered how morale would fair once they were on the road, warm hearths and proper meals far behind them.

“Dinner will be ready shortly,” a voice came from behind her. She turned, startled out of her musings, and faced Bilbo. How had he approached so silently? He noticed what she had been looking at before and his face lit up. “Oh! I made that, you know.”

“Truly?”

“Yes, maps are a big interest of mine!” Bilbo told her enthusiastically. “Though I am uncertain whether my scaling is entirely accurate. Besides the occasional jaunt to Bree I have never seen any of these places.”

She considered him for a moment. For a hobbit so adverse to adventure he was certainly looking at the map rather wistfully. “Would you like to?”

“Well, yes... I would but there is, well, my reputation to consider, you see. I'm considered quite a respectable gentlehobbit here in the Shire and adventures are not conducive to maintaining such a reputation. And, well,” he continued, voice sad now, “I'm a rather small fellow in a rather big world. It's dangerous out there, or so the rangers tell me. I doubt I would last a day if I were to go haring off into the wilderness alone.”

“That may be so,” Dis conceded. “But you would not be alone, were you to come with us on our journey. You are not too much smaller than dwarrow, Bilbo. You could learn to fight if you wish. I would be pleased to teach you if you wished it.”

It had been a long time since she and Dwalin had taught Fili and Kili to fight but her skills had not grown rusty. She practiced with her knives near enough every day but it would be pleasant to have a new challenge.

Bilbo looked slightly surprised and more than slightly frightened at her offer but he was saved from answering by a series of heavy knocks at the front door.

He bustled out of the room, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to leave, and she followed behind with one last lingering glance at the map. 

Bilbo opened the front door only to thoroughly crushed by the remainder of their companions. The Ri sisters, Oin and Gloin, Bofur, Bombur and Bifur. That was everyone accounted for besides the wizard though she was not particularly concerned over his whereabouts.

There was a brief scuffle as they righted themselves. Bofur plucked poor Bilbo from the floor with ease and set him on his feet. Then reached down to collect his hat, lost in the fall, before it was trodden on and returned it to his head. He grinned brightly at them all. “Hello all! Lovely little place, this is.”

“Master Bofur,” Dis greeted. “How was your journey?”

“Pleasant enough m'lady, my thanks for asking!”

She had always enjoyed Bofur and his family. They were friendly, open-minded dwarrow and good company, always up for a joke or a story. Dis paid little attention to those who would try to steer her away from them due to their low birth – just as she had when various nobles and naysayers had tried to tell her a princess of Durin could not marry Vili, a miner native to Ered Luin without a penny to his name.

Never mind the fact that she, the so-called princess, also didn't have a penny to her name at the time.

“Ori!” Fili's delighted voice came from somewhere behind her. Bilbo must've relinquished him from the cooking. He rushed past her to wrap Ori in a hug but was forced back by Dori.

“No hugging,” Dori told him sternly, as she always did. The eldest of the Ri sisters was not to be trifled with on the best of days but became especially ferocious when her youngest sister was involved. 

“Hullo Fili,” Ori said shyly, peeking out from behind Dori's back. “Hullo, Lady Dis.”

Dis smiled warmly at her. “Hello dear. Are those new mittens?”

Ori beamed at her, holding her hands in front of her to be inspected. The wool was a rich dark purple. “Yes, they are! Nori bought me some new wool just recently.”

Privately Dis doubted that Nori had done any such thing as she was a notorious thief but did not voice this thought out loud lest she also find herself on the wrong side of Dori's temper. And Nori was a good enough dwarf, despite her... proclivities. It was often her ill-gotten gains that had helped to keep Fili and Kili fed in the past so she could not truthfully condemn her without also condemning herself.

Nori also did whatever might entertain her most. Which meant sometimes she encouraged Fili in his pursuits of Ori, and other times would throw him under the wagon just as easily. 

Dis enjoyed seeing her eldest son humbled in such a way. It would keep him from becoming too proud.

“And you've put the wool to fine use, little sister,” an impish voice said from further down the hallway. Nori had uprooted the contents of a hall table and was inspecting a set of silver cutlery with a covetous gleam in her eye. 

Dis noticed she was also wearing a pair of purple mittens.

“I would return that cutlery if I were you,” Fili told her.

“Hmm. Who is going to make me? You?”

“No,” Fili laughed. “I can't make you do anything and you well know it. Uncle Thorin however... has become very fond of Master Baggins in the short time we've been here. I shouldn't like to imagine the scolding you'd receive if you were to upset him.”

“Oh?” Nori said with a devious grin. “How interesting.”

The noise of had begun to draw the others out from further within the smial and soon enough the whole company was assembled quite happily in the front entryway, catching up on what they had missed in the weeks and months since they'd last seen each other.

“Well!” came Gandalf's voice. He had to duck as he came inside lest he hit his head on the rafters. “Isn't this a merry gathering after all, Bilbo?” He said delightedly, no doubt congratulating himself on how his scheme seemed to be going according to plan. “I knew you would come around to the idea eventually!”

Bilbo gave him a hard look and trotted over to Thorin. Both of them ignored the wizard entirely which, unfortunately, only seemed to encourage Gandalf further as he looked between them with undisguised curiosity.

“Hello everyone! Welcome!” Bilbo tried to get their attention over the chatter. “If you'll just hang your cloaks by the door there and come through to the dining room we can get started on dinner!”

When he went unheard, Thorin repeated the request – loudly – and the company did as they were told.

Thorin led them to the dining room as though he was the one who lived there, though in truth Bilbo did not seem to mind. The others broke into whispers at this but soon quietened down when they took in the large spread of food before them.

Even Dis was stunned and she had already seen firsthand just how much food Bilbo kept in the pantry. 

Laid out like this it seemed like more, somehow. 

In the center of the table was a selection of roasted meat. A haunch of beef, a large gammon joint, crisp strips of bacon, several roast chickens, and a large platter of sausages. Surrounding this were side dishes of potatoes, roasted and glazed vegetables of all kinds, meat pies with a thick gravy, several pots of stew, a selection of cheeses, bowls of soup, and plates of bread rolls scattered in between.

There also appeared to be dessert as Dis could spot several different kinds of cakes, tarts, biscuits, and a small bowl of cream.

“Surely you did not cook all of this just now, Bilbo?” Dis asked. They had only been a guest of his for an hour or two. It certainly hadn't been long enough for him to prepare such a large meal, even with the “help” of Thorin and her sons.

“Well, no,” Bilbo replied sheepishly. “Some of the meat was already cooked and waiting in the cold larder along with the cheese. The bread, pies, and cakes I made yesterday. My apologies, it isn't all fresh...”

“Don't apologise,” said Bofur in awe. “Why, look at it all. This is more food than I have ever seen! Master Baggins, I may propose to you right now!”

“You will say thank you and no more,” Thorin told him sternly.

“Is it enough?” Bilbo asked. He was once again wringing his hands which Dis had begun to realise was a nervous habit. “Thorin said it would be, that dwarrow eat less than hobbits, but it doesn't seem like enough! Not that I'm doubting the word of a king, of course, oh no!”

Thorin turned from where he was frowning at a confused Bofur to smile at him. “It is more than enough,” he said sincerely. “I am indebted to you for the kindness you have shown here today.”

“Oh, no, I don't think so!” Bilbo exclaimed. The thought seemed to alarm him. “I shan't have a king in my debt, definitely not. But you can thank me by sitting down and enjoying the meal.”

And so they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time: feasting, a history lesson, and bilbo makes a choice.


End file.
